Pretty Little Secret
by InspiredtoRead
Summary: Liv/Fitz Morning After - little slice of sexy goodness
1. Chapter 1

Pretty Little Secret - Fitz POV

A/N: Ode to my Gladiators on Twitter; they made this drabble happen...Blame them!

Fitz felt superhuman. His senses were heightened and his focus razor sharp. He waltzed into the Baptist Church's main hall and moaned inwardly in response to the myriad of scents that tantalized his senses. The air was thick with the smell of freshly made pancakes, bacon, confectioner's sugar, and maple syrupy goodness. The smell that stood out the most, however, was perhaps the sweetest of all, more succulent than the nectar from the freshly sliced fruit that lie on the table positioned in the far right corner of the room. He smelled _her._ Her sweet scent, a smell uniquely hers, engulfed his senses and seized his heart and groin. He smelled _her_ before he saw her. He felt her presence long before his eyes, travelling through the sea of faces, landed softly upon her face. _Livvie…my sweet baby._

He watched her mingle and move about the room. A smirk played on his lips as he noted her stiff movements, no doubt the result of her trying to walk as "normal" as possible. His uninterrupted observation of her was cut short by an announcement that breakfast was served.

He was famished. He piled his plate high and took a seat at the head table. He ignored the looks he received from those at his table as he scarfed down a stack of pancakes, several slices of bacon and fresh fruit. He'd caught Olivia's eye once during the breakfast and she'd raised her brow at him and his plate of food. He'd responded by innocently licking syrup from his hands as he held her eyes. His smile grew ten fold when she dropped her fork, mouth agape, in response to his antics.

* * *

She was avoiding him. No matter whose hand he shook or whose eyes he held as he made mindless small talk, Fitz was acutely aware of Olivia and where she was in the room. She seemed to be avoiding him; of this he was sure. For every step he took to his right, she took one to her left. If he moved two paces further into the room, she discretely took two paces back. While he had yet to interact with her, and while she seemed enthralled in numerous conversations with voters, he knew she was also aware of him and taking note of his every move.

He stood with a group of the church's ushers as they discussed the upcoming election. Mrs. Donaldson, the longest tenured usher at the church, was in the middle of rehashing a humorous encounter with Sally Langston when Fitz unceremoniously snorted. Those in his group turned and looked at him curiously as he covered his mouth and feigned a cough.

"Sorry" He mumbled. "You were saying ma'am." He tried to focus on what the old lady was saying but he was too caught up in the conversation happening behind him.

While he couldn't see her, Fitz guessed that Olivia must have winced or shown some level of discomfort to garner the line of questioning she was currently enduring from an elder of the church.

"A strain?" Pastor Arsten asked. "Like a hamstring injury?"

"Yeah, I should probably get that looked at." Olivia stated, hoping to mask her discomfort with the direction of the conversation.

"Had a few in my day…painful stuff. Make you walk like you've ridden on a horse."

"Yeah…"

"Been out riding lately dear?"

"W-what?" She choked. "If you'll excuse me."

Fitz turned his head in time to see Olivia excuse herself from the group and hastily make her way into the hall.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me…" He winked and followed Olivia.

* * *

He rounded the corner just in time to see her bend over a water fountain and feign a sip. He quietly walked over to her and gently grabbed her by the elbow and led her through the maintenance room door. He locked it behind him and turned to face her.

"Olivia"

"Governor"

"Really?"

He watched her fidget and knew she was nervous. He tried to catch her eye but they quickly darted around the small room, never settling on his face for too long. Neither said a word. Fitz took a moment to study her. He noted her hair was pulled back in a loose bun and a few strands of hair played softly on her neck. _Lucky strands._ He noted her cream colored blouse and the way it was neatly tucked into her black skirt. He noted how the black skirt hugged her thighs and playfully veered away from her body as it travelled toward her knees. _Lucky skirt._ His eyes worked their way back to her face and he pinned her eyes with his stare.

He felt a familiar stirring in his stomach as he watched her chest begin to rapidly rise and fall. His pants became tight when her eyes darkened with desire in response to him licking his lips. With eyes never wavering from her face, he took a step toward her and raised an eyebrow as she took a step back.

"You weren't there when I woke up." He stated softly, his eyes shifting between her eyes and her lips.

"No, I wasn't"

"Why?" He murmured, taking another step toward her.

"I, uhh…" Her eyes fluttered shut and she lost her train of thought as Fitz gently palmed her neck, the pad of his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. "I thought it best to be in my room when Cyrus came knocking."

"Livie," He took another step into her space. He waited for her eyes to reopen and for her to look at him. "Hi." He smiled widely.

"Hi" Her smile, while hesitant, slowly grew to match his.

"Next time," He whispered against her neck as he began to place soft kisses up and down her throat. "Next time you stay."

"Next time?" She moaned.

"Next time."

He walked her backwards until she was pushed against the wall and unbuttoned two buttons on her blouse. Pushing the material aside, he ran his tongue over the marks he'd left the night before and began sucking on her neck. His right hand travelled down her arm to her thigh to her knee and his fingers played with the hem of her skirt. He slipped his hand beneath the fabric and caressed her bare leg. His hand mirrored his mouth in that as his mouth inched up her neck to her jaw and lips so too did his hand inch slowly up and across her thigh and hip. As he teased her with his lips, his fingertips danced up her inner thigh – avoiding the one spot she needed his touch the most. She began to writhe against him, coaxing his hand to her core. He inched closer and closer and close—.

They froze as movement just outside the door grew closer and louder. Cyrus' voice could be heard floating down the hall. Fitz felt Olivia stiffen in his arms and she began to push at his chest. He moved a small step back but refused to let her go.

"Let me go."

"No"

"Fitz, I mean it. Let me go."

"No" He once again began to kiss her neck as if trying to kiss the nervous energy away.

"Fitz please…" She tried to stifle a moan.

"Fine, on one condition."

He took two steps back and smiled as relief flooded her features.

"Give me your panties."

"Fitz" she chuckled in response but sobered immediately at his straight face. "Seriously?"

"Hand 'em over." he motioned with his hand. When met with her stare of indecision, he said "Let me make this easy for you, hand them over or…" He grabbed her by the waist and brought her flush against him. He groaned as his hardened member met her softness. "We're not leaving until I get satisfaction."

He let her step out of his hold. He took a step back and held her stare as she hiked up her skirt and pulled down her panties. She stepped out of them slowly and threw them at his face. He caught them easily, inches from his face, and inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes as pleasure coursed through him and relish the smell of her and the softness of the material between his fingers.

"Now," he started, his voice thick with desire. "For the rest of the day, every time you move, every time your skirt caresses your bare ass and hips, you'll think of me. You'll imagine it's my hands caressing your skin." He winked and shoved her panties deep into his left pants pocket.

He grinned his sexiest grin as she just stood there staring at him in disbelief.

"You'd better leave first, I've got to calm down a bit." He stated while gesturing toward the tent in his pants.

He chuckled as she huffed in annoyance. She shot him a glare but gave no reply and walked past him, back into the hallway and toward the main hall where the unsuspecting patrons were still gathered.

* * *

A/N: So Liv POV at the Prayer meeting up next. :-0 Let me know your thoughts! xo


	2. Chapter 2

Pretty Little Secret - LIV POV

Olivia was paralyzed. Physically rendered immobile by pleasurable indecision. To move or not to move, _that_ was the question. She silently cursed up to the heavens. And wonder for the millionth time how she managed to let Fitz literally talk her out of her panties. _Damn that man._ She didn't dare move. The slightest movement caused the fabric of her skirt to brush across her bare skin. She fought against the urge to close her eyes and moan. It was all too much. It felt too good. It was so wrong. This was neither the time nor the place. But Fitz had been right, she was consumed with thoughts of him. Every touch of fabric was his hand gently caressing her ass. Every soft brush against her hip was his hot breath grazing sensually across her cheeks. She did not dare move. But she'd be damned if she stayed still. With a deviant sway of her hips and neutral grin on her face, she waltzed over to the back corner of the church and began talking with a small group of churchgoers.

* * *

_Look away. _Olivia pretended to be engrossed in the conversation happening around her. She nodded and mumbled responses all the while acutely aware of a pair of eyes staring at her from the front of the church. Fitz had been unwavering in his visual tracking of her and relentless in his gaze. A slow burn began to stir, starting in the pit of her stomach, rising up to her chest, and descending to her core. It was all consuming, it was demanding. It was becoming impossible for her to stand still. She grew increasingly uncomfortable as her treacherous mind conjured up images of the night before. She wished he'd stop staring at her. She wished she had the strength to meet his eyes. Olivia unconsciously reached up and played with the collar of her blouse while trying to discrete cool herself down. As the hot air seemly escaped from its confines within her blouse she swore she felt a phantom lick up her neck. She snapped to attention, her unfocused eyes becoming clear once again. The hand on her collar abruptly stopped moving as she made eye contact with one of the old ladies in the group who had been eying her exposed neck with a knowing smile.

* * *

She was going to explode. Her nerves were on edge and she was ready to jump out of her skin at any moment. She had to get out of this church. She pressed a hand to her heart, relieved that it seemed to be slowing down. She chuckled softly to herself and thought back to moments earlier where she had been convinced that she was seconds away from tearing Fitz clothes off and fucking him senseless right on the hallowed grounds upon which they stood.

To think it all started with a gust of wind. She'd been standing slightly off to the left of the church doors when she felt a harsh gust of wind slap across her legs and upper thighs. Shocked, she'd been momentarily rendered mute as her mind involuntarily travelled back to last night where she'd discovered Fitz's affinity for smacking her ass. Desire shot through her like a bolt of lightening as her eyes – with a mind of their own – sought his. Much to her chagrin, he'd witnessed her reaction and wore a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

She stared at him with wide eyes and willed herself to look away. Her jaw dropped as she watched him take his hand out of his pocket – the pocket which held her panties – and slowly run his index finger across his bottom lip. He wore a faux pensive expression but his eyes shimmered with mischief. He was trying to kill her.

She had to get out of this church.

* * *

Olivia was certain, absolutely certain, about very few things in her life. To Olivia, being certain meant to reject the idea of variable change, something not in her wheelhouse. If nothing else, she prided herself for always accounting for the unaccountable. For understanding and appreciating that certainty was an illusion existing for the sole purpose of lulling one into a false sense of security. But standing in the back of the church watching Fitz, hand on his hip, pretend to be interested in the pastor's words as his long fingers leisurely stroke the outside of his pants pocket, Olivia was certain - beyond a shadow of a doubt - of three things. One, this man was made for sex. Absolutely born to fuck. Two, she was, despite her best efforts, madly in love with Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third. Three, she'd gravely underestimated said Grant. _ And don't forget, four - I'm going to straight to hell._

Despite her instant attraction to the man, Olivia had been convinced that Fitz was white bread, plain vanilla. Like most, she'd seen his perfect appearance, perfect hair, and cavalier disposition as indicative of the man's true nature. The fact that his marriage was in shambles, contrary to public perception, only served to suggest layering and perhaps a hint of complexity. But his eyes and his smile proved to be his contradiction. They hinted at a secret, something deeper, something wanton; they hinted at a promise of satisfaction. She'd been drawn in – slowly and irrevocably – by the hunger burning bright in his eyes and the deviously innocent smirk that always seemed to play on his lips whenever he looked at her. She fell despite herself. She fell despite the circumstances. She fell, because at the end of the day, not falling was not an option.

Vanilla he was not. He was layered. He was mysteriously hidden in plain sight. He was delicious. He was rocky road ice cream. And goddammnit if that wasn't her favorite flavor.

She sighed heavily and glanced around the church, a single thought floated through her hear. _I have to get out of this church._

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! HAPPY SECOND SEASON EVERYONE!


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